


My hand around the base of your holy neck

by allforyoumylove



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: ALL THE GOOD STUFF, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Not much plot, Sex, a bit of everything, a lot of it, equal parts sex and fluff, it's explicit but not that explicit, they’re so obviously in love it hurts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:09:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26974945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allforyoumylove/pseuds/allforyoumylove
Summary: “All Robbe knew was that Sander was rubbing his hand up and down his back, nails scraping his skin gently, that he smelled like safety, sweet and warm, and that there was nowhere he would rather be than in his arms.”(aka the one where Robbe and Sander are “just” friends with benefits, but the amount of times they call each other ‘baby’ and the way they can’t fucking stop kissing begs to differ.)
Relationships: Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Comments: 40
Kudos: 268





	My hand around the base of your holy neck

**Author's Note:**

> I was seriously contemplating whether or not I had the guts to post this fic, and whether or not I should divide it into smaller chapters cause this is a long one, but then I thought fuck it, it’s serious missing sobbe hours and season 4 is just… yeah. Plus, it’s been exactly a year since Sander saw Robbe for the first time and knew that he was the one <3<3<3 
> 
> So, here’s 16k words of sex and fluff lol.
> 
> Enjoy!

**September 27 th, 00.25**

“You’ve been staring at me all night,” Sander said into Robbe’s ear before smoothly leaning against the wall beside the younger boy, his voice low but audible through the thumping, bass-heavy music. They stood secluded at the back of the dark, pulsating room, half-finished drinks in hand. “You need something, or?”

Robbe feigned innocence. “Am I not allowed to look at you?”

Sander took a sip of his drink and shook his head, looking out across the buzzing dancefloor. “Not when it feels like you’re mentally undressing me.”

“Maybe I am,” Robbe smirked and turned around to face Sander, resting his shoulder against the wall. “Would prefer the real thing, though.” He lightly trailed a finger down Sander’s forearm, craving the feeling of his hands on him.

“And what do you want me to do about that, Robin?” Sander said, mirroring Robbe’s pose, gaze dropping to his mouth.

Robbe shrugged, moving closer, his breathing hot on Sander’s chin.

“You could take me home. Let me undress you. Then you could undress me…” His lips brushed the skin just below the older boy’s mouth. “Didn’t you tell me that your parents were out of town this weekend?”

Sander’s lips spread in a lopsided grin. “Someone picks up on the important details.”

When Robbe met Sander’s eyes and combed a hand through his messy dark brown waves, breathing out the softest, “Please?”, Sander felt his barely-there resolve crumble completely.

“And who am I to deny you anything when you ask so nicely,” he said.

A satisfied smile grew on Robbe’s lips, and Sander leaned in and kissed it, tongue slipping into his sweet, wet mouth. They rarely kissed in public, but Sander felt an enormous longing for him, and the way Robbe looked, his brown hair a bit messy, his arms still golden from the late summer sun, combined with how he hummed against his lips, didn’t help one bit.

“Come,” Sander said as he pulled back. He tugged on Robbe’s wrist and began walking, placing his half-empty drink on the nearest surface. They weaved their way through the drunk, dancing bodies, the floor sticky with spilled alcohol beneath their feet.

This was not a new situation. The two boys had been friends for years, and friends who had been hooking up for about one of those, starting one night when Robbe had been at Sander’s house, both of them a bit sad and stressed about life in general. As they talked, Robbe couldn’t stop staring at Sander’s mouth, and then Sander leaned closer and closer until their lips wrapped around each other. They had made a mess of scattered clothes and crumpled bedsheets and since then continued to do so on a weekly basis. Sander claimed it to be a scientific fact that regular sex functioned as a very effective stress reliever, “And also, you can’t deny that that was some fucking good sex, Robbe.”

And Robbe really couldn’t.

“Didn’t know you knew anything about science,” he had teased but then indulged Sander without much of a fight, his hands sneaking under the hem of his shirt, because who was he to dismiss science.

But by the way his heart sped up in his chest every time Sander as much as looked at him, Robbe knew it could never _just_ be casual sex for him. The feeling grew about four months into their arrangement when they confessed to one another that they weren’t sleeping with anyone else, that they had enough in each other. Sander had casually suggested that they be tested so they could drop the condoms to which Robbe had sheepishly and blushingly agreed. And Sander had ruffled his hair and lovingly kissed his cheek.

Robbe knew that Sander was going to find someone, fall in love with them, and then they would have to stop this wonderful thing. But until then, he took every little bit of Sander that he was allowed to have. Literally and figuratively.

Sander turned to face Robbe now as they made their way onto the street, the cool night air a pleasant change from the stuffy, heavy atmosphere. The younger boy didn’t seem drunk or tipsy for that matter, but Sander had to make sure. “How much have you had to drink?”

Robbe smiled at him fondly. “Just a couple of beers throughout the night.” He squeezed Sander’s hand. “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna regret having sex with you if that’s what you’re worried about.” Robbe looked at Sander’s lips and then at his neck. Just below his earlobe he located the ever-present fading purple smudge in the shape of his mouth. It was in desperate need of a touch-up in Robbe’s opinion.

“Oh, we’re going home to have sex? You want some dick?” Sander teased, raising his eyebrows in feigned surprise. “I thought we were just gonna undress each other and then peacefully and innocently go to sleep.”

“Sander.” Robbe shot him a look, and as he tilted his head, his earring caught the fluorescent glow of the streetlights, sparkling, and Sander felt his mouth water. Taking Robbe’s chin between thumb and forefinger, he kissed him, right there beneath the night sky.

-

In his room, Sander pulled away with a smirk just before Robbe could put his lips on his, and then he did it again, always a tease.

“So fucking needy,” he said, licking his lips, feeling Robbe hard on his thigh as he pressed against him. “And so horny, huh?”

“Fuck you,” Robbe groaned and Sander breathed out a laugh, finally giving in. He drew Robbe to him by the waist and crushed his lips with his own. Their mouths opened against each other, and Robbe swallowed the warmth from Sander’s throat, melting completely when Sander’s tongue danced around his own. As the older boy gently sank his teeth into his bottom lip, pulling a bit, Robbe let out small, quiet whimpers into his mouth.

He reached under Sander’s shirt. Their clothes were the only thing separating them, but they took care of that in less than a minute, hands moving quickly, shirts and jeans landing wherever they threw them. Robbe’s lips dragged along Sander’s jaw, down his neck, and the older boy tilted his head, granting him better access. His tongue felt like fire as he licked a wet, torrid stripe up Sander’s throat, before he began sucking and nipping just below his ear, and Sander just basked in the attention, letting Robbe do whatever the fuck he wanted with him. Fingertips found their way to the waistband of Sander’s underwear. He breathed out a broken moan as Robbe slipped his hand underneath it, wrapping his fingers around his now very hard dick.

“Robbe,” Sander sighed appreciatively, eyes a dark green, pupils blown wide, devouring the light. Robbe skimmed his thumb over his slit, small beads of precum already forming. He smeared them over the head and down the length. But then he removed his hand as quickly as he had put it on him, and Sander just about whined at the sudden loss of his touch. The younger boy tugged Sander’s boxers all the way down his legs and Sander kicked them off with his feet, making quick work of ridding Robbe of his.

Holding onto Robbe’s waist, Sander walked him backwards towards the bed. There, he reached into the drawer of his nightstand, grabbing the bottle of lube. Instead of pushing Robbe onto the sheets, he steered him towards the wooden desk chair; the one Sander was usually perched on while drawing, and Robbe had often wondered what it would be like to just walk up to him and innocently wrap his arms around him from behind, to rest his chin on top of his shoulder and press light, affectionate kisses against his neck.

Now, Robbe gave Sander a puzzled look as he guided him down on the chair, and Sander just smirked, curling his hands around the back of his knees, lifting Robbe’s lean legs over each armrest. Robbe watched him with droopy eyes as Sander’s intentions dawned on him.

“Fuck, Robbe, you’re just so…” Sander started, taking the younger boy in as he sat sprawled in the chair, legs spread for him. He let his fingers brush along Robbe’s dick, going further down between his thighs. “So fucking beautiful.” Robbe’s eyelashes fluttered and he let out an appreciative hum.

Robbe peered at him with a heart that beat heavily in his chest as Sander went down on his knees and smeared some lube on his beautiful golden fingers. A long, deep sigh was dragged out of him when Sander gently circled a fingertip around him, before finally pushing in, gently starting to work him loose, twisting and turning.

Sander nuzzled against Robbe’s inner thigh, kissing his way downwards, tongue swirling soothingly where his teeth had grazed the delicate skin, and Robbe’s breath hitched when the older boy came closer and closer to where his hand was doing what it was so fucking good at.

Sander’s fingers alone, so deft, lean, and never wrong, could reduce Robbe to a whimpering mess, his skin tingling wherever they touched. Combined with his tongue as he left kisses along Robbe’s length, licking up the pearls of precum that trickled down it, it felt as if a little bit of heaven was at work between Robbe’s legs. He gasped aloud when Sander stroked him, achingly slow, before letting his tongue play with the tip, taking him in his mouth and swallowing him down.

Robbe tangled his hands in Sander’s brown locks, his jaw tensing as the older boy slowly pulled him apart, spread him open, gave him what he needed. Sander gazed up at him every now and then, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked him firmly, his tongue swirling around his slit, lapping him up, and all of it was _too much_.

At times the older boy was like a bottle of fine wine to savour, wine you took sips of and swirled in your mouth to make his taste last for as long as possible, causing your insides to go all fuzzy and your cheeks to pinken. And then he was like ten shots of pure vodka, burning all the way down your throat, making your mind hazy and your body light as air. These sides of Sander coexisted so harmoniously within him, a fusion of sweet and dirty, creating a boy _to fucking_ _die for_. He was the only healthy intoxication, no hangover the morning after; the only thing left was the deep, pleasant ache in your limbs, purple bruises on your chest and below your jaw, and the addictive longing for the next chance to get drunk.

Panting and completely exposed, Robbe tugged on his hair. He wanted Sander inside him, he wanted to be on top, he wanted to be on his back, he wanted him in every possible way all at once, and his body could barely contain how he was feeling right now.

“Sander, I’m ready,” he croaked.

He could feel Sander smile against him. “I know you are. I just love you like this.”

And Robbe’s heart almost stopped working at that one word. He knew Sander didn’t mean it like that, but still. Sander snaked his arms around Robbe’s waist, effortlessly picking him up, and the younger boy sighed and wrapped his legs around him. He pressed his lips against Sander’s slick, puffy ones, tasting himself on his tongue, and electricity ran up and down his spine.

When Robbe lay on the bed, the sheets cool against his back, Sander shook his head, gripping Robbe’s hips, his voice resolute, knowing what he wanted. “On your belly.”

Robbe would never admit it, but he secretly loved when Sander bossed him around a little, took control, trusting the older boy completely. But then he used the word “belly”, and Robbe couldn’t supress a fond chuckle or stop his heart from going all funny in his chest.

“What?” Sander asked.

“Nothing.” Robbe turned on his stomach, and Sander tucked a pillow beneath his hips, arranging him how he wanted him. “You’re just cute.”

Sander gently scoffed and bent down to kiss the back of his neck, his shoulder blades, spine. Robbe took in deep, unsteady breaths and folded his arms, resting his cheek on his hands, mind hazy with want. Sander slowly ran a hand all the way along his back, feeling the strong muscles under his palms before his fingers travelled further down, caressing him gently, so pliant and velvety soft. He wiped his fingers in the bedsheets and spread Robbe’s legs slightly, before positioning himself, his knees on either side of Robbe’s thighs, teasingly sliding his length back and forth against the sensitive skin. Robbe sighed as Sander sank into him, slowly, inch by inch, until his hips were flush against him, his arms bracing himself by Robbe’s waist. Their breathy moans mingled, Robbe’s pretty, slightly high-pitched with Sander’s low ones that the younger boy felt in the pit of his stomach. He blindly reached behind and gripped Sander by the hip, keeping him still.

“Just a second,” he breathed, his eyes closed, adjusting.

Sander pressed his lips to the curve of his shoulder, whispering soothing words into his skin, revelling in how fucking warm Robbe was.

When Robbe removed his hand in a wordless permission for Sander to move, Sander’s hunger for the younger boy grew tenfold, and he began rolling his hips. Robbe all but mewled into the pillow. The way Sander’s hips sounded against Robbe was almost too much to handle, _almost_. Skin on skin, _their_ skin, was one of Sander’s favourite sounds in the world, just after Robbe’s lovely laugh and his exquisite moans that were slowly killing him, and the way he said his name, casually and innocently in daylight, unholy behind closed curtains.

Robbe’s dick lay trapped between his stomach and the pillow, completely neglected, getting more and more sensitive and undoubtedly soaking the fabric.

They were reduced to their physicality, to nails scraping skin, fingers clutching bedsheets, the deep pressure in their stomachs, and hearts that secretly beat for the other in a way that exceeded their sexual want entirely.

Sander looped an arm around Robbe’s stomach, and Robbe lifted himself up on his elbows, his forearms flat against the mattress, twisting his back just enough that their noses brushed, and they were able to slot their lips together. Sander slowed his pace, losing himself in the heat of Robbe’s mouth, feeling the edges of his teeth against his tongue, until Robbe pulled back and let his head drop drown between his arms and onto his chest. Leaving kisses on the base of his neck, Sander kept rocking into him. By the breathy moans and curses he could tell that Robbe was enjoying it, enjoying it a lot, but he had to hear him say it out loud. Because Robbe’s voice sounded deliciously profane in moments like these.

Sander let his lips brush the curve of his shoulder, half whispering, half sighing into his skin, “Does my dick feel good, Robin? When I fuck you from behind like this?”

And if Robbe wasn’t delirious with want he would have reached behind him and playfully swatted Sander, the tips of his ears warm. But now his words were everything, Sander was everything. He gasped when the older boy thrusted into him a bit harder, making it clear that he was waiting for an answer.

Robbe, still on his elbows, his spine arched and his knuckles white from clutching the sheets, turned his face and nuzzled his nose against Sander’s cheek, his breath hot on the corner of the older boy’s mouth.

“You always feel so fucking good,” he exhaled, and a million butterflies brushed against Sander’s ribs at how soft and gentle Robbe _always_ was, the qualities so deeply embedded in his DNA.

He caught Robbe’s bottom lip and gripped his hips. “Come here. Wanna see you.”

Robbe slowly raised himself onto his hands, his arms shaky, his muscles soft as butter. Sander pulled the pillow out from under him and threw it somewhere on the floor. The younger boy slowly turned onto his back, whimpering as Sander slipped out of him.

And when Sander saw him, _my god_ – his chest all blotchy and heaving, brown eyes dazed, a small dopey smile on his rosy lips, his stomach glistening with precum – he knew he had to slow down, had to prolong this for as long as possible, because he could come in a fucking second by the sight of him alone. Wrapping his hands around Robbe’s upper thighs, Sander pulled him further down the bed, closer to him, dragging the sheet off the corner of the mattress in the process. Robbe’s golden necklace was pulled taut around his neck and ever the tease, Sander climbed on top of him and nipped at the chain, grazing the thin skin with his teeth, before kissing up his neck and jawline. Their lips brushed as he started rolling his hips anew, his dick sliding along Robbe’s in a slow rhythm, up and down, creating friction but not nearly enough for any relief.

“If you keep doing that, I swear to god I’ll fucking–“ Robbe said in a low, hoarse, impatient tone, grasping for something to say, the muscles in his jaw tensing and untensing, “–punch you in the face.”

Sander barked out a laugh. He moved to press a kiss to the junction between his neck and shoulder. And then Robbe contradicted himself completely by wrapping his arms around Sander’s waist, his legs around his thighs, and arching his back, his hips colliding with Sander’s, grinding against him.

“And ruin this gorgeous face? You would never,” Sander breathed.

Not in the mood for banter, Robbe dug his nails into the back of Sander’s hips, hard, making the older boy hiss. Without warning he slid back inside Robbe in one swift, slick movement. The younger boy’s mouth fell open in a drawn-out moan. Sander kissed him roughly, ferociously, wanting every sound that Robbe’s vocal cords produced _in him,_ their breathing hot and heavy in each other’s slack mouths.

Robbe knew exactly what pleasure looked like on Sander; his eyebrows pinched in a slight frown, his shiny, wet lips parted, a rosy tint high in his cheekbones, and Robbe swore he was the most beautiful person to ever walk the earth. He caressed Sander’s face, tracing the lines between his eyebrows with his fingertips.

“You look so pretty when you fuck me,” he blurted, mesmerised. “You’re always so pretty.”

And Sander thrusted impossibly deeper into him, finding the perfect angle, repeatedly hitting his prostate, drawing out a string of strained curses from Robbe. Sander kissed his jaw, his hand cradling his face, thumb gently pushing into his mouth. Robbe closed his lips around it, suckled on it, his moans vibrating against the skin. Sander dragged his wet finger up the corner of Robbe’s mouth, baring the younger boy’s teeth for a second. Burying his face in Robbe’s neck, he began sucking bruises into his skin, and Robbe knew he would never hear the end of it when he met up with his friends tomorrow, but that was for future-Robbe to deal with. Right now, he couldn’t find it in him to care. Especially not when Sander was kissing and nipping at the sweet spot beneath his earlobe.

The throbbing in the pit of Robbe’s stomach grew, feeling like it was taking over his entire body. He tugged on Sander’s hair. “Fuck, Sander, I’m about to come.”

And his voice sounded fucking _wrecked_ , so raw it sent electric shocks through Sander’s body. He wrapped his arms around Robbe’s waist, and they moaned in unison with every thrust, Robbe into Sander’s ear, Sander into the crook of Robbe’s neck. A trickle of his saliva ran down the younger boy’s skin, and Sander smeared it with his lips. They had done this so many times, and it just kept on getting better. It was like they became one mind, moving in sync, following blindly where the other went, never moving in the same way twice.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Robbe said brokenly, automatically clenching hard around Sander, the muscles in his stomach and thighs tensing as he came between their bodies, tidal waves of immense pleasure crashing over him.

“Yes, baby,” Sander sighed breathlessly. “You feel so good. So beautiful when you come for me.”

Robbe tangled his fingers in Sander’s hair as Sander kept slowly rolling his hips, still pushing out drops of cum with every thrust and placing sloppy open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, chasing his own release.

“I want you to come on me,” Robbe whispered, his voice nearly gone.

Sander stopped his kissing long enough to ask, “ _On_ you?”

Robbe nodded against the side of Sander’s face.

“Fuck,” Sander exhaled, picking up his pace, and Robbe couldn’t suppress a few whimpers, on the cusp of oversensitive. He gasped as Sander pulled out suddenly and raised himself on his knees, ropes of milky white cum landing on Robbe’s inner thighs, his hipbones, and Robbe sighed in appreciation, throwing his head back on the pillow, watching Sander breathe heavily, his brows furrowing prettily, panting moans leaving his mouth. He reached up to Sander’s rising and falling chest, caressing it gently, slowly bringing him back to him.

Sander couldn’t repress the instinct of running a finger through the drops of himself on Robbe’s smooth skin, coating his scattered freckles, dragging small sounds out of Robbe’s throat. Robbe’s own orgasm still clung to Sander’s abdomen. Robbe curled a hand around the back of Sander’s neck, and with that, Sander collapsed on top of him, almost pulling the air out of the younger boy’s lungs. Sander’s arms encircled his waist, and he rolled onto his back, dragging Robbe onto his chest, their thighs and stomachs sticky against one another.

“We’re gross, Sander,” Robbe chuckled when Sander didn’t seem to want to loosen his arms around him anytime soon, his eyelids heavy as he blinked up at him. He placed a few quick kisses against Robbe’s smile lines.

“No, we’re not,” he whispered. And Robbe just completely melted against him, looping his arms around his ribcage, hugging him to him, burying his face in the crook of Sander’s neck. Sander let out a long, contented sigh, his warm breath blowing over Robbe’s temple, and Robbe tightened his arms, almost scared that it was too much, but Sander didn’t seem to mind. They had been doing this more often lately, settling in the warmth of one another’s arms after sex, basking in the unmatched euphoric high of their orgasms, acting more like lovers than what they actually were. And Robbe wasn’t complaining, taking every bit of Sander he could get.

He didn’t know how long they lay like that, it could be minutes, it could be half an hour, time didn’t exist. All he knew was that Sander was rubbing his hand up and down his back, nails scraping his skin gently, that he smelled like safety, sweet and warm, and that there was nowhere he would rather be than in his arms.

“You’re incredible Robbe, do you know that?” Sander murmured softly then.

Robbe raised his head and looked at him. There was nothing but honesty in Sander’s eyes. He loosened an arm and reached up to cup Sander’s cheek, thumb skimming his warm cheekbone. Sander rested his nose against Robbe’s, before tilting his head, slotting their lips together. Arms still around Robbe, Sander carefully rolled them onto their sides, their chests glued together, and Robbe’s heart burst a little bit at Sander’s small, sweet, unthinking sounds. They kissed and kissed, never getting enough of the other’s taste.

Panting, his lungs desperate for more air than what his nose could take in from being pressed against Sander, Robbe slowly pulled away, breathing in deeply, his limbs all sore and fuzzy. Sander grabbed Robbe’s hand that was settled on the small of his back and moved it to rest between them.

“I don’t want you to go home,” he whispered, playing with the younger boy’s fingers, brushing the hills and valleys of his knuckles, looking everywhere but into his eyes. “Please stay.”

There was something in Robbe, a soft glance, a touch of a finger, that could blow Sander’s confidence into smithereens, reducing him to wavering eyes and pink cheeks, and Robbe just wanted to make a home for himself in the crook of his neck, his dopamine levels going through the roof. He let Sander fiddle adorably with his fingers for a bit, feeling the tickling touches along his palm.

“I’ll stay,” he said gently, and he swore he saw Sander’s shoulders visibly relax, his sleepy green eyes meeting Robbe’s brown ones. He snaked an arm beneath Robbe’s and hugged him around his shoulder blades, pulling him further into him. Robbe left kisses on his jawline, just small, chaste pecks, but enough to make Sander sigh.

“Okay, we’re a little gross,” he murmured then, and Robbe laughed quietly, reluctantly releasing him.

“One second,” Sander smiled.

Robbe rolled onto his back and watched Sander leave the room. He let himself really _feel_ the immense warmth currently residing in his chest. It wasn’t a new sensation, far from it, but it was growing rapidly every time he was with Sander. He knew what it was, and there was nothing he could do to tame it. He honestly didn’t even want to try.

When Sander came back, all fresh and clean, he threw a damp washcloth at Robbe’s face.

“Ew, Sander,” Robbe huffed.

The older boy rolled his eyes. “Relax, Robbe, it’s clean.”

As Robbe began dragging it over his thighs and abdomen, he caught Sander gazing at him from where he was standing by the window, now ajar to air out the room. A small, fond smile rested on his lips.

“What?” Robbe asked.

Lightly shaking his head, Sander said, “Just… You would never let me come on you in the beginning. Remember how red and flustered you went just from seeing my cum?”

“Well, people change, don’t they?” Robbe said, continuing to rub the damp fabric across his thigh. “Besides,” he added with a shy little smile, not meeting Sander’s eyes. “I know how much you like it. I can tell by the way your pupils go all wide, and that makes me really like it too.”

 _This boy_ , Sander thought.

He smirked mischievously, feeling his heart melt. “I’m glad, because I think my cum looks really good on you,” he teased.

“Yeah, okay, that’s enough,” Robbe said, blotches of rosy red spreading across his beautiful chest. Before tossing the cloth on the floor, he pretended to throw it at Sander and snorted when the older boy flinched.

“Robin…” Sander sighed in feigned petulance as he crawled back under the warm covers, pinching the younger boy’s waist. Robbe squirmed and playfully shoved him away.

Facing each other in the golden glow of the bed lamp, Sander couldn’t help but just look at Robbe. Robbe breathed out a quiet giggle and poked Sander’s nose. “Sleep.”

Sander just smiled at him. Then he closed his eyes, pretending to go to sleep, taking in a few deep breaths. Not feeling any movement from Robbe for a bit, he opened one eye, glancing at him. Robbe was still watching him, his expression soft.

“Pff,” Sander gently scoffed, turning onto his other side, lips tugging upward in a lopsided grin. When Robbe still didn’t move, Sander peered back over his shoulder and fumbled for Robbe’s arm, throwing it over his waist. “Robbe, come here,” he said, growing impatient.

Robbe chuckled, reaching over Sander to turn off the light. The room was bathed in complete darkness. He nestled up against Sander’s back, letting his lips linger on his nape, his nose in his brown hair that smelled freshly washed, citrussy with a hint of musk. He sneaked his arm beneath Sander’s and rested his hand by his chest.

“Goodnight, Sander,” he whispered.

Sander blindly reached for his hand in the dark, placing his palm on the back of it, slotting his fingers into the spaces between Robbe’s. “Goodnight, Robin.”

-

When Robbe awoke the next morning, Sander wasn’t there. He let his hand feel the space in front of him. The sheets were still slightly warm where he would have preferred the older boy to have been. The door to the room was ajar, and a faint sound of water turning off indicated that he was in the bathroom taking a shower. Robbe burrowed deeper into Sander’s bed. He wrapped himself in the duvet, pulling it all the way to his chin, inhaling the sweet scent of the older boy, of sleep, of tangled bodies, of them. He revelled in the nice, pleasant ache of his limbs and the thought of what had caused it. His eyes roamed the familiar room, not looking at anything in particular, his drowsy brain drifting off and taking him wherever it wanted.

And then there, causally walking through the doorway, Sander was. A white towel was wrapped around his hips, a stark contrast to his bronzed skin, making him look extra appetising. His brown hair was damp and wavy, and Robbe was sure angels were modelled after him.

With a soft smile, Sander took in the younger boy completely wrapped in his bedsheets, his head the only visible part of his body.

“You comfortable?” he asked.

Robbe nodded, his heavy eyelids blinking slowly. Sander made his way to the closet across from the bed and, looking back at Robbe, he gestured to his towel. “Do you mind if I?”

Robbe breathed out a silent chuckle through his nose, shaking his head almost imperceptibly.

“Have you lost your voice?” Sander smiled, and Robbe nodded again, making the older boy laugh, so lovely and raspy in the morning.

Sander let the towel drop and all words definitively left Robbe. The muscles in Sander’s naturally golden back flexed in his skin as he dug through his shirts, drops of water still sitting between his shoulder blades. His arms and legs were lean but Robbe knew from experience that he was strong. He watched unashamedly as Sander got dressed; the hem of his boxers fitting snugly around his thighs, the white t-shirt falling like a curtain, covering his pretty stomach, jeans draping around his legs perfectly. The boy was so nice on the eyes, and Robbe felt a warmth well in his chest at the domesticity of the moment, wishing this was an everyday thing; waking up in Sander’s bed, enveloped in his duvet, watching him get ready.

Tugging his phone in his front pocket and picking up a folded pair of socks, Sander made his way to the bed, sitting down beside Robbe. His back curved as he reached down to put the socks on his feet, and Robbe almost slipped an arm out from the comfortable heat, wanting to caress his spine. Sander then gazed at him and rested a hand behind him on the mattress, leaning his weight on it, hovering over Robbe. With the other he stroked the younger boy’s messy hair away from his eyes.

“Aren’t you getting up at all?”

Robbe sighed. “Do I have to?” His voice was raspy, the first time he spoke that day.

Sander shot him a small apologetic smile. “Well, I kinda have to leave soon. Sorry.” He kept soothingly running his fingers through Robbe’s hair. “But if you don’t mind lying here without me, then you’re welcome to stay.”

As much as he just wanted to live in Sander’s warm bed, it wasn’t the same if Sander wasn’t in it with him. Robbe looked up at him through his eyelashes. “When do you have to leave?”

Sander pulled his phone out of his pocket, checking the time. “In, like, 25 minutes.”

Robbe nodded and lifted the duvet, tugging on Sander’s shirt, inviting him in. “Can we lie here for a bit?”

And Sander didn’t have it in him to say no when Robbe looked and sounded so soft. Willingly, he crawled into the small, warm space that Robbe had left for him, gathering him into his arms.

One boy fully clothed, the other completely naked, they lay there, breathing together peacefully, Robbe into Sander’s neck, Sander into Robbe’s tangled curls. The denim of Sander’s jeans felt rough against Robbe’s bare skin when he entwined their legs. They had the entire bed but somehow, they resolved to taking up the smallest possible space, teetering right on the edge of the mattress.

“Robbe, you’re pushing me off the bed,” Sander said quietly, a smile in his voice.

The younger boy just tightened his arms around him, pulling him even closer, Sander’s gentle tone both mending and tearing something loose in his chest.

“Sorry,” he whispered, barely audible.

“S’okay,” Sander said, nails gently scraping Robbe’s nape. Sensing how quiet he had gone, he asked softly, “Are you alright, Robbe?”

Robbe just nodded into him, not daring to speak, sure that his voice would break if he did, especially when Sander said his name like it was the most precious word. The truth was that he was fighting back tears from welling in his eyes, biting down hard on his lip to stop it from quivering, the deep pinch of yearning in his chest overwhelming him so suddenly that he felt he might fall apart if Sander let go, if he let go of him in every sense.

“I’m right here,” he heard Sander whisper, as if he had read his mind. Robbe ran his hand up Sander’s back and twisted his fingers in his shirt, the fabric soft in his palm.

The familiar warmth and scent engulfing Robbe and the fingers continuously carding through his hair worked as an effective lullaby, gradually relaxing him. He swore he would just rest his eyes for a few seconds, but those seconds grew into a minute, then two, until he fully drifted back to sleep.

Sander sighed into his hair and carefully pulled his phone out of his front pocket, gently resting it on the back of Robbe’s shoulder. He looked down at Robbe, at his curved eyelashes that fanned out on the top of his cheeks, the small freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose. Then he opened his messages, typing quickly, cancelling his plans. They weren’t that important anyway. Not compared to the boy with the smile lines and the brown unruly locks who lay curled around him, clutching his shirt in his sleep. Sander didn’t care that he had to tense his muscles to prevent them both from falling off the bed; it just meant that he could snuggle closer to Robbe, could hold him even tighter. His favourite boy of all.

*

**October 4 th, 14.58**

Sander: _are you home?_

Sander: _I can’t fucking concentrate on this project I have to do for class_

Sander: _and I’ve had some pretty hefty dreams about you lately_

Robbe bit down on his lip and looked at the open textbooks on his desk. He had been stuck at the same math problem for what felt like forty-five minutes now, in dire need of a break. And he didn’t want to spend his Sunday with maths when he could spend it with Sander, doing something much more interesting. Getting up from his desk, he made his way to his bed and threw himself on it, smirking as he typed out his reply.

Robbe: _aaand you’re telling me that because?_

Sander: _because I really wanna fuck you right now. I’d literally do anything_

Robbe revelled in Sander’s straightforwardness while simultaneously cursing him for the way he was able to turn him on through _one single text_.

Robbe: _anything huh?_

Robbe: _you wanna do my math assignment?_

Sander: _if you’re happy with a C then sure_

The younger boy snorted.

Robbe: _don’t you think a C is a bit on the high side for you in math?_

Sander: _wow rude_

The eyeroll was loud and clear.

Robbe: _and you’re sure you can’t find another outlet?_

Sander: _Robin you and I both know that there’s nothing better than you_

Sander: _so can I come over? Please?_

Sander: _I mean only if you’re free and you want to_

Sander: _you can say no of course_

Robbe let out a breathy chuckle through his nose. He didn’t think he could ever say no, didn’t want to say no; Sander really only had to _glance_ at him, and he would be down on his knees, unzipping his jeans.

Robbe: _you’re cute_

Robbe: _I’m free and I want to_

Sander: _fuck you’re the best_

Sander: _I’m on my way x_

-

Fifteen minutes later, Sander knocked on the door to Robbe’s room, peeking his head through, his leather jacket in his arms. “Hey,” he said, his lips tugging upward in a smile when Robbe got up from the bed.

As Sander placed his jacket on the backrest of Robbe’s desk chair and toed off his boots, Robbe took him in, watching how his black jeans clung to his legs like they were made for him, committing to memory how nicely his light grey hoodie fit around his shoulders, before he would undress him, revealing something much more mouth-watering underneath. Sander’s brown hair was longer now, the strands at his forehead, windswept and tousled, fell in messy waves and Robbe ached to run his fingers through them. He closed the gap between them until they stood chest against chest, their slightly parted lips brushing.

“Hi,” Robbe murmured. Sander leaned in to kiss him, but Robbe put a finger against his lips, reaching around the older boy to lock the door first. “Someone’s eager,” he teased.

Sander kissed the pad of his finger before his lips spread in a crooked smile. “Who wouldn’t be if they’re about to have sex with you?”

Robbe tilted his head and shot him a look, resting his hands on Sander’s chest. He felt Sander’s hot breaths hit his cupid’s bow in soft puffs, and as the tip of the older boy’s tongue glided across his bottom lip, Robbe reached up and cupped the back of his neck, finding purchase in his brown locks and crashing their lips together.

The vibration of Sander letting out a pleased hum into his mouth almost made Robbe’s knees give out. Grabbing his waist, Sander began walking them away from the door, further into the room, before he tugged on the fabric of Robbe’s shirt. Robbe raised his arms above his head, helping Sander rid him of the garment.

Robbe could feel how tense Sander’s shoulders were, and as he pressed his fingertips into the muscles of his upper back, Sander groaned. They had been doing this long enough for Robbe to know that the unmatched bliss of an orgasm was the only thing able to loosen him up, relieve the tension.

“Fuck, Robbe,” Sander breathed against his neck, hovering on top of him on the bed now. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

The breath caught in Robbe’s throat as he watched the older boy kissing down his bare chest, licking his nipples, then his stomach, his warm, wet tongue peeking out in quick glimpses.

“Yeah?” he exhaled.

“Mmm,” Sander hummed, opening the belt of Robbe’s jeans, hastily pulling them down his legs and throwing them gracelessly on the floor. “Been thinking about all the things I wanna do to you.”

“What do you wanna do to me?” Robbe asked innocently, a smile growing on his lips.

Sander put a hand on Robbe’s stomach, spreading out his fingers, feeling the younger boy’s muscles jerk against his palm. He let it slide down, cupping his hard-on through his underwear.

“I wanna fucking wreck you, Robin,” he said, stifling his laughter, purposefully being too much and loving the blush that spread in Robbe’s cheeks. “Bury myself so deep in you that you’re gonna feel me in your stomach.”

“Jesus,” Robbe spluttered, his dick twitching, “fucking Christ, Sander. Why does it still surprise me when you say stuff like that?”

And Sander laughed heartily.

Robbe watched Sander unzip and push down his own jeans, dragging his underwear with them, and Robbe’s eyes almost rolled back in his head at the sight of Sander’s dick slapping up against his abdomen, standing at attention, so fucking hard already.

Clothed, Sander was already a vision of youth and beauty. Naked, he looked straight out of a fucking wet dream, always the star of Robbe’s. He was a creation that Huysmans could describe endlessly, lingering on every little detail, from the creases of his elbows to the shorter dark brown locks curling around his ear, the perfect subject for a writer preoccupied with all things decadent; one volume about his elegant golden fingers wrapped around pencils and paintbrushes or knuckle-deep in Robbe, the long veins running just under the skin of the back of his hand, making your heart flutter against your ribcage; another about his mouth-wateringly beautiful thighs that effortlessly could carry both him and Robbe at the same time, that would tense and tremble around the younger boy’s face when he sucked him off on the bed; the third depicting his sinful lips that did things Robbe would blush a warm rosy red just reading about, but nothing in comparison to the deep flush he felt all over when actually experiencing them; a rare, invaluable ten volume set. Once you read the first line your mind would be desperate for the next, hopelessly trying to assemble the full image which could never to the real thing justice, and when the last page was turned, you would clutch it to your chest and then start all over again.

As Sander noticed Robbe’s heavy gaze on him, he stroked himself just to be a tease, to rile Robbe up, and Robbe raised an eyebrow at him, his lips betraying him as they stretched into a smirk. Robbe didn’t have much to compare this to, but he knew they had a chemistry that many people searched years, maybe all their lives for. By the quirk of an eyebrow to the twitch of a lip, they knew what the other needed, and Sander guided Robbe so well, making him feel safe and secure in everything he did.

Sander snatched the lube from the back of the drawer in Robbe’s nightstand. He coated his fingers and spread Robbe’s legs further apart as he settled between them, kissing and nipping his inner thighs, before he moved his way to his pubic bone, sloppily pressing his lips against the delicate skin. The sight of Sander was unholy when he gazed up at Robbe through his long lashes, tracing a wet stripe all the way up his length.

“Fuck yes,” Robbe sighed, before throwing his head back on the pillow, an arm resting above his head, his other hand loosely wrapped around the base of his throat, just taking and enjoying, looking like an angel.

With his hands and mouth at work at once, Sander watched him; how he writhed, how his hips flexed, pushing deeper into his mouth, and Sander could fucking live like this for the rest of his life, completely satisfied with giving Robbe everything he wanted. But just when Robbe was literally about to haul Sander off of him, the muscles in his stomach tensing, his orgasm close to being ripped out of him, Sander hollowed his cheeks and sucked him firmly one last time, kissed the tip, and pulled off with a pop.

Robbe blindly searched through the rumpled duvet beside him, fishing up the bottle of lube, eagerly tossing it at Sander. It landed on the older boy’s shoulder and he fumbled to catch it, taken by surprise. It ultimately slipped through his fingers, landing somewhere in the bedsheets again, dangerously close to rolling on the floor.

“Robin,” Sander gently scoffed, shooting him and unimpressed look, his lips twitching, unable to supress a smile when Robbe laughed. “You’re a menace.” _And so fucking lovely my heart hurts_.

As he entered him, just the tip, Sander’s heart grew a little in his chest at the way Robbe’s eyelashes fluttered. A ray of golden, late afternoon sun fell through the half-closed curtains then, across the younger boy’s torso, the angel on his chest sparkling and shimmering in the warm light. And Sander pushed in all the way, making Robbe moan so, so prettily, a long, breathy hum in the back of his throat. He stayed there for a bit, attentively watching Robbe adjust, until the younger boy slowly opened his eyes and gazed up at him, smiling, sighing out a small, “Hi.”

Sander laughed quietly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Hey.” He stroked a few strands of hair away from Robbe’s forehead. “You okay? Can I move?”

Robbe nodded almost bashfully, his cheeks pinkening.

“Baby, why are you getting all shy now?” Sander asked, a bit puzzled, brushing the tip of his nose against Robbe’s.

“’m not,” Robbe mumbled, and Sander smilingly gave him a disbelieving look. Then he felt the younger boy clench around him, making his breath hitch.

He leaned back on his knees, running his hands down Robbe’s waist, careful not to slide out of him. Goosebumps rose on Robbe’s flawless skin wherever he touched. He raised Robbe’s legs, wrapped his arms around them, and held them securely against his chest as he began fucking him, changing Robbe’s breathing with every thrust. And Robbe twisted his fingers in the bedsheets, his knuckles white, basking in the way Sander felt inside him. But he couldn’t ignore the growing ache in his hamstrings from the way Sander stretched his legs.

“Ow, Sander,” he laughed through broken moans. “I’m not that flexible, you know.”

Sander kissed Robbe’s ankle, breathing out a chuckle against it, before letting his legs relax on his shoulders instead, and Robbe felt an instant relief.

“Sorry,” Sander whispered, leaning over him, hands on either side of his chest, pinning him to the sheets.

Robbe just smiled up at him, shaking his head fondly. He threw his arms around his neck, drawing him down and kissing him. Sander started thrusting into him again, harder this time, finding that perfect angle that sent Robbe into a frenzy. Robbe’s eyes rolled back in his head, the muscles in his jaw tensing. He let his arms fall to the mattress, hands finding their way underneath the pillows by his head, the coolness of the fabric a stark contrast to his fiery skin. His back arched, his mouth panted Sander’s name.

And Sander believed that his name was meant to be said like that, breathlessly, amorously, in Robbe’s sweet voice.

Throwing an arm over his eyes, Robbe buried his face in the crook of his elbow, and Sander could tell from the way his teeth were digging into his bottom lip that he wouldn’t last much longer.

“Are you gonna come, Robin?” he asked softly.

Robbe could do nothing but nod into his arm, a string of whimpers escaping his throat at the ache in his lower back, the pressure in his stomach, and at the nickname only Sander used for him. Then he felt Sander loop his fingers around his wrist, uncovering his face. He lowered his forehead onto Robbe’s.

“Look at me when you come,” he said, voice all too silky for the way he was thrusting into him, hitting his prostate _perfectly_.

Hands finding purchase in Sander’s gorgeously messy hair, Robbe lifted his eyes. His usual chestnut irises were now a deep mahogany, his wet lips dragging against Sander’s, and Sander’s heart could barely take the sight of him.

“Fuck, you’re so good, Robbe, taking me so well,” he breathed, cradling the side of his neck, thumb caressing his jaw. “Looking so perfect.”

Slotting their lips together, Robbe shut him up, already on the verge of overwhelmed, and Sander’s praises in that dark tone of his that he felt vibrating all the way down his spine wasn’t helping. His head fell back against the pillow, his neck exposed, hair sticking to his damp nape, his abdomen twitching when Sander mercilessly pulled his orgasm out of him, steadily fucking him through it. Robbe couldn’t look him in the eyes in the end, completely reduced to a writhing, moaning mess. But it didn’t matter, because Sander’s gaze was zoomed in on Robbe’s dick as it pulsated and painted pretty, liquid, white stripes across his lean abs. He wanted to drag his tongue through them, mess up the pattern, lick the younger boy up, but he refrained from it when Robbe managed to send him a cute but murderous glare, reading his mind, his brows still furrowed in pleasure.

When Sander’s hips began to stutter, his rhythm breaking down, Robbe let his legs fall from his shoulders just to wrap them around his hips, heels digging into him, shivering as he felt Sander reach his climax inside him. He pressed his lips to the corner of Sander’s mouth, returning the praises into his skin. Sander rested his forehead against Robbe’s, their noses and eyelashes brushing as he let out whimpers and mewls that he couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed about, because Robbe looked as if they were the prettiest sounds he had heard.

Overwhelmed, Sander rolled off of him and onto his back, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Oh my god _,_ ” he exhaled, his teeth feeling dry by the way he was panting.

Robbe lazily reached out and soothingly ran the back of his hand up and down Sander’s chest, watching him regain his breath. Then he grabbed one of the pillowcases desperately clinging to its pillow, using what was at hand to roughly clean himself.

Sander made grabby hands at him with a soft smile on his lips, and Robbe found his way into his arms, settling his head on his shoulder. The older boy rested his hand on the small of his back, fingers drawing small patterns, caressing his skin, and Robbe let his eyes roam Sander’s face. Up close he could see every little perfect freckle and pore and the chaps in his slightly puffy lips. And only now did he notice the dark tint in the delicate skin around Sander’s eyes, like light purple bruises circling his green irises and long lashes. Robbe gently traced the skin with a fingertip, unsure if he should ask, but he couldn’t ignore the slight pinch in his heart.

“Sander?” he said.

The older boy hummed.

Robbe’s eyes darted back and forth between his. “Have you…” he started softly, carefully. “Have you had trouble sleeping lately?”

Sander let his gaze wander to somewhere behind Robbe’s shoulder, a faraway, hazy look lacing in his eyes. He shrugged. “I don’t know… Some nights, maybe.”

Robbe knew him well enough to know that his vague answer meant that, yes, he was having trouble sleeping.

The older boy still didn’t meet his eyes, absentmindedly moving his fingers across the back of Robbe’s hip. “Why’re you asking?”

“Because I’m your friend,” Robbe said.

Sander focused back on him, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “A friend who gives me amazing orgasms.”

“Sander…” Robbe rolled his eyes, his cheekbones warming, and Sander snickered. They fell silent for a moment, and Sander’s gaze wandered off again.

Running a hand through his hair, Robbe tried to regain his attention. “Do you wanna take a nap?” he asked quietly. When Sander looked at him, Robbe added, “I’m kinda tired too,” assuring him that it was okay if he wanted to sleep.

Sander’s eyes softened, and he leaned in, pressing his lips against Robbe’s ever so gently. He didn’t have to move far, their lips almost brushing as they spoke, and Robbe smiled into it. It was all the confirmation he needed. Slowly, he shifted onto his other side, and Sander snuggled up behind him, chest against back. Draping the duvet around them and sneaking his arm under Robbe’s, Sander found his hand and intertwined their fingers, his thumb tracing his knuckles.

“Thank you,” he whispered into Robbe’s nape, nosing into his tousled curls, his lips lingering on his skin.

Robbe squeezed his hand. “I’m right here.”

Sander wedged a leg in between Robbe’s, tangling them, and Robbe inhaled deeply, calmly, feeling Sander synch up his breathing with his, the soft, warm puffs blowing into his hair. From the way Sander’s limbs grew heavier around him, the younger boy knew he had drifted off to sleep, and only then did he allow himself to do the same.

-

Robbe awoke to the feeling of deft fingertips leisurely caressing his hipbone in small circles, before they slowly inched further down, into the coarse hair low on his abdomen. They were in the same position as when they fell asleep, on their sides, Sander’s front and Robbe’s back flush together. Robbe felt hot, a light layer of sweat at the top of his forehead but moving away wasn’t an option. Not when Sander was in a mood like this, never getting enough. He smirked when he felt the older boy against him, ready to go. With heavy eyelids, his mind still clouded with sleep, Robbe turned his head as best as he could in Sander’s hold to be able to look him in the eye.

“What time is it?” he asked innocently. He guessed early evening; the glow of the lampposts down on the street reaching through his window, the sky a blue-grey shade, not that dark yet. The golden hue of the string lights above his bed reflected in Sander’s eyes, making them sparkle.

“Don’t know,” Sander mumbled into his shoulder, sloppily kissing along the curve, teeth grazing him.

“Sander…” Robbe chuckled, his voice raspy with sleep.

When Sander wrapped his fingers around him, his hand stroking him in a slow, lazy rhythm, every bit of willpower and resistance in Robbe’s already very plaint body collapsed. He raised an eyebrow teasingly. “Again?”

Sander placed open-mouthed kisses all the way up his neck, the shell of his ear, down his jawline. “Always again.”

Robbe sighed softly, pleased.

As Sander pushed into him, still so warm and silky smooth, Robbe grabbed his hand that was still around his dick and placed it flat against his stomach instead. He wanted to prolong this for as long as possible, and that definitely wasn’t happening if Sander kept stroking him like _that_ , his skilful artist fingers brushing every ridge and vein. Sander threw his thigh over Robbe’s, their lower legs tangling tightly, locking the younger boy in place, unhurriedly rocking them together.

This time it wasn’t desperate, they weren’t frantically chasing relief. Instead, it was slow, deep, and Robbe swore he could feel Sander in his stomach with every thrust, deliciously hitting every sensitive nerve ending. Robbe really loved having sex with Sander when it was like this, he loved it every time, but this was just something else; when they really took their time with it, relishing each other’s presence; when Sander held him in his arms and curled around him like this, making it difficult to tell where Sander ended and Robbe began.

The room was gradually filled with their heavy breathing, long sighs and low moans. Sander snaked an arm under Robbe and wrapped it around his chest, pulling him closer to him. His other hand still rested firmly on his stomach, and Robbe arched his back, reaching behind him to find purchase in the hair at Sander’s nape. Craning his neck, Robbe slotted their lips together, hand gliding down Sander’s jaw. Sander splayed out his fingers low on the younger boy’s abdomen, pushing himself impossibly deeper into him, knowing exactly what he was doing. And Robbe had never felt safer, had never been more at peace and comfortable in his own body. He knew he could take whatever Sander gave him, trusting him with his entire being. He only existed in this moment, the past and the future gone.

“Fuck, Robbe,” Sander sighed, lips on the corner of his mouth. “You’re incredible.”

The arm around Robbe’s chest slid upwards then, the palm ghosting his nipple, and Sander loosely wrapped his fingers around the base of Robbe’s throat, squeezing the tiniest bit. Robbe felt his mouth go slack, his dick heavily leaking precum onto his hipbone, the bedsheets. Sander rested his lips just below Robbe’s ear, teeth nipping gently. Robbe put his hand on top of Sander’s, making him squeeze his throat a bit tighter. The older boy slowly stilled the movements of his hips.

“You like that?” he asked, and Robbe could hear the smirk in his hoarse voice, his hot breaths blowing into his ear. “You like it when I choke you a little bit?”

Robbe’s eyes rolled back as a shiver went up and down his spine, and he couldn’t for the life of him formulate any coherent words. Instead, he let a string of curses leave his mouth. He began fucking himself back on Sander’s dick, urging him to move again. Sander’s breath hitched, and Robbe turned his head to catch his gaze, the throbbing pressure in his lower stomach increasing rapidly. Sander had directed his attention to where they were connected, watching with heavy eyelids and glistening lips how Robbe grinded against him.

“Sander,” Robbe exhaled, getting impatient now. “Fuck me.”

Tightening his grip around Robbe’s waist, the older boy thrusted into him deeply, a hand still around the base of his throat, and Robbe could fucking die right there and then. He involuntarily clenched around Sander when he reached the best spot, and the older boy nosed into the curve of his shoulder, cursing, before he wrapped his other hand around Robbe’s dick. He stroked him in the steady rhythm of his thrusts, swiping his thumb across the sensitive head, smearing the precum down the length. And Robbe almost wept at how fucking good Sander felt, at how he always took care of him so well, so attentive to what he needed. Robbe would never tire of him. He couldn’t imagine ever doing this with anyone else, didn’t even want to think about it.

“Fuck, Sander, don’t stop,” he breathed. “I’m gonna– I’m gonna come.”

Sander kissed the shell of his ear. “I’ve got you, baby,” he said, and his gentle tone combined with the way he tightened his grip around Robbe’s throat a little pulled it out of Robbe, his climax crashing down on him so intensely that stars exploded around the edges of his vision. He spilled himself onto Sander’s hand, his own stomach, the bedsheets, but he didn’t care about the mess he made, not when it was caused by something that completely short circuited his mind with pleasure. His muscles shuddered, and he needed Sander to wrap his arms around him, to keep him steady; if he didn’t, Robbe was sure that he was going to float away.

He seeked Sander’s hand that was still wrapped around his dick. “Sander, hold me.” His voice was barely there, and Sander looped his arm around his stomach, the other holding onto his shoulder, hugging him firmly to his chest.

“I’m here, I’m here,” he whispered soothingly into his ear. “I’m also very close, baby. Can I keep going?”

Robbe put his hands on top of Sander’s, squeezing them, nodding his head yes. Steadily thrusting into him a few more times, Sander joined him with a string of strained moans into his neck. His front was glued to Robbe’s back, his thighs trembling, and the only thought running through Robbe’s mind as he felt Sander’s orgasm inside him and his beating heart against his back was how fucking divine he was.

“Fuck,” Robbe exhaled, covering his face with his slightly shaky hands, trying to get his breathing under control.

“You good?” Sander asked, his voice hoarse. Robbe sensed a hint of worry in it.

“Yeah,” he quietly laughed into his hands. “Exhausted, but good. You always make me feel so fucking good.”

Sander placed a few gentle kisses along the curve of Robbe’s neck. He slowly pulled out of him causing Robbe to wince a bit, overwhelmed and sensitive.

“Sorry,” Sander whispered.

“S’okay,” Robbe smiled, eyelids heavy. He grabbed the edge of the sheet, cleaning himself as best as he could, before turning around in Sander’s arms, the bedsheets twisting around his legs. Sander sighed contentedly and threw the duvet over them, making himself comfortable, kissing Robbe’s forehead, his perfect nose, his soft, warm mouth.

“Mmmyou’refuckingamazingIlovehavingsexwithyou,” he mumbled almost unintelligibly into the younger boy’s mouth, his teeth accidentally grazing the sore, delicate skin of his bottom lip. “Do you want me to do your math assignment now?”

Robbe barked out a laugh against him. “You love it _that_ much, huh?”

Sander brushed their noses together, his cheeks practically glowing from the post-orgasmic thrill, feeling almost tipsy. “You don’t?”

“It’s alright,” Robbe teased.

Scoffing, Sander rolled his eyes and kissed him again.

“Didn’t you need to work on your own project, though?” Robbe asked, voice muffled against Sander’s lips.

Sander let out a groan, his forehead slumping against Robbe’s. “Ugh, Robbe, way to bring me back to reality. Thanks very much.”

Robbe chuckled, feeling his eyes go all droopy. He shifted their positions a bit, resting his head on Sander’s shoulder and sneaking a leg out from under the duvet, throwing it on top of it, the cool fabric nice against his blazing skin.

Sander looked at him for a bit, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards in a smirk. “I should just make my project about you. Draw you like this, all pretty and fucked-out and naked. Make you my muse.”

“Sander…” Robbe shook his head, his cheeks heating. “I _really_ doubt your professor would appreciate the sight of that.”

“Mm, maybe you’re right,” Sander smiled, “I’ll keep that to myself. You can be my own private little muse.”

Robbe smirked lazily, playfully jostling him, butterflies fluttering at his blatantly flirtatious tone.

They fell into a comfortable silence, and Sander let his eyes wander the room, studying the details, feeling Robbe’s fingertips draw small circles on his chest. He’d been in there many, many times, but he could always find new details to linger on, like the desk chair with Robbe’s clothes piled on the backrest – today it was his dark green sweatshirt and brown jacket –, his backpack and some books on the floor, his scuffed white sneakers hastily kicked into a corner.

“You need some new shoes,” he remarked.

Draping his arm across Sander’s waist, Robbe burrowed into the crook of his neck. “No, they’re so comfy.”

Sander smiled when Robbe tightened both his arm and leg around him. “Are you also feeling comfy?” he asked.

Robbe nodded, lightly pressing his lips against his jaw. Sander nuzzled his nose into his hair, inhaling. There was something so calming for him about Robbe’s scent; like honey and green leaves, sweet and fresh, safety and serenity. No matter how fast his mind was going, it always seemed to quiet down whenever the particular scent of the younger boy’s skin and hair washed over him. But he’d also noticed that just a look or a simple touch had the same effect. That Robbe in general made everything in him feel at peace, wanted and enough.

And Sander really wanted to tell him; that he loved him; that he was in love with him; that he wished Robbe would call him his.

Instead, he rubbed his hand up and down Robbe’s back, gently scraping his nails against his skin, hoping to convey his affection through touch. He felt Robbe’s body go lax around him, his eyelashes brushing his chest each time he blinked.

Sander let his gaze go around the room again. It was so Robbe; his desk covered in schoolbooks, his laptop open, such a studious and hard-working boy, and then there was his skateboard and his camera gear for the vlogs, the goofy side that Robbe only let loose around his close friends. Sander had been lucky enough to witness the filming of one of the videos, his heart growing in his chest at the fact that Robbe felt safe around him too. Sander teased him about the vlogs, _obviously_ , but secretly he cherished them.

Then his eyes stopped at the now blank wall opposite the bed that usually had a few posters scattered on it.

“Why’d you take the posters down?”

The younger boy tore his eyes away from him and glanced at the wall, shrugging, “No particular reason. Just didn’t really like them anymore, I guess.”

Sander hummed, then bit down on his lip, trying to contain a smirk, and Robbe could almost _hear_ the perverse thoughts brewing in his mind.

“What?” he said, narrowing his eyes at him suspiciously.

Sander swiped his tongue across his bottom lip. “Well, now that there’re no obstacles anymore, the wall is practically begging us to fuck against it one day.”

Robbe widened his eyes slightly. Even though he was completely spent, his dick still stirred treacherously at the mental image of Sander pinning him against the smooth surface.

“Oh, you’d like that, huh?” Sander said, looking smug, obviously having felt Robbe against him. He received a shove from Robbe and laughed a hearty laugh when he almost fell off the bed.

“I think it’s time for you to go home,” Robbe said, feigning annoyance.

As Sander rolled out of bed, Robbe couldn’t help but run his hand down his spine, already missing his warmth. He then playfully kicked at him, and the older boy raised an eyebrow, managing to grab his ankle. “Excuse me, mister. You need to behave.”

“I’ll behave when you behave,” Robbe giggled, and Sander smiled, raising Robbe’s leg to kiss the bridge of his foot, before letting it drop to the mattress.

Robbe watched him get dressed, one of his favourite activities, right after undressing him of course; the clothes covering up his skin, his skilful fingers tying up the laces of his Docs. Robbe’s heart felt light as a feather. Sander caught him looking, and his lips spread in a soft smile. He slowly made his way back to the bed, leaning over Robbe, hands resting on either side of him on the mattress.

“What is it?” Robbe asked. And Sander bent down to kiss him. Stretching his neck, the younger boy met him halfway, a low, pleased hum escaping his throat.

“You just look really beautiful right now,” Sander said gently, sincerely, as he pulled back. His smile slowly grew into a lopsided grin. “Lying there, not so discreetly watching me, wrapped in your cum-stained bedsheets.”

“ _Ugh_ , Sander.” Robbe pushed his face away, unable to suppress a shy smile. Sander laughed lovingly and went to put on his leather jacket. When Robbe’s gaze landed on Sander’s hair, still dishevelled from where his fingers had been tangled in it, he breathed out a fond giggle. Raising himself on his knees, he moved to stand on the edge of the bed, waving Sander back to him. His legs felt boneless, barely able to keep him upright.

“Fucking hell, how can you even walk right now?” he asked.

Sander breathed out a short chuckle through his nose. “Trust me, my legs are like jelly.”

The older boy moved closer, and when the duvet glided down Robbe’s naked body, exposing every bit of him, he comically held up his hand, blocking the view of Robbe’s dick, looking fixedly at his face instead.

“What’re you doing?” Robbe let out a confused laugh.

Sander shook his head at him. “I can’t look. I’m weak, and my willpower is non-existent, and that wall is calling for us.”

Feeling his stomach flip, Robbe scoffed. “You’re fucking insatiable.”

“And you’re fucking hot, baby.” Sander’s gaze dropped to Robbe’s neck and chest where purple and crimson blotches from his relentless mouth were steadily taking shape, and it filled him with a selfish satisfaction that it was fully visible to the world how well Robbe was treated. “If I didn’t have to go work on my project, you’d be moaning my name up against it right now,” he added.

A warmth rose in Robbe’s cheeks. “ _Enough_ about that now.”

Sander’s gaze was playful but went so, so soft when Robbe reached for his hair, combing his fingers through it, smoothing down the wild strands, and the older boy happily let him, watching him with mesmerised eyes. The intimacy of this moment, of his fingertips carding through Sander’s hair, and the way Sander was looking at him was something that transcended the pure want that had taken over their bodies earlier. Robbe caressed the shorter tufts behind his ears, not because they needed fixing, but because he liked the way it made Sander’s eyelashes flutter.

And Robbe knew that he was deeply in love with Sander. He had probably been well on his way before they even started sleeping together, the sex had just tipped the scale for him. There was no way of denying it, no way of mistaking the warm, all-consuming feeling in his chest anymore.

Realising that they had probably been standing like that for much longer than necessary, Robbe deemed Sander’s hair acceptable for the public eye and gently patted him on the cheek. “There,” he said, voice almost inaudible.

Sander’s eyes dropped to Robbe’s mouth. He leaned down a bit, and Robbe automatically tilted his chin in response to what Sander was silently asking, indulging him willingly. It was sweet and tender, so unlike what they had done a few hours before, and as Sander cupped his cheek, his thumb caressing the top of his cheekbone, Robbe automatically wrapped his fingers around his wrist, sighing into it.

Sander gazed at him with an easy smile on his face as he pulled away, his eyelids heavy, his pupils big and black, before he stroked Robbe’s hip. “Thank you,” he said softly and reached for Robbe’s necklace, adjusting it a bit.

Robbe nodded and sheepishly bit his lip, fiddling with a fingernail, turning shy suddenly. The older boy pressed his lips against the corner of his mouth. “Cutie.”

When Sander was about to turn towards the door, Robbe caught him by the hand and pulled him back. Cradling Sander’s face, he reconnected their lips. Still standing on his knees on the bed, he almost lost his balance, making Sander pull him in by the waist, his arms steadying him. Their groins were pressed together now, and Sander’s jeans created a delicious friction, the leather jacket cold against Robbe’s stomach. Robbe threw his arms around Sander's neck. The kiss was deeper this time, and Robbe almost let out a moan when Sander’s hands slid down, squeezing him, his tongue melting around his own.

“I really have to go,” Sander murmured, pecking Robbe’s lips once, twice, before pulling away. His arms were still securely around the younger boy, their noses brushing.

Robbe sighed and nodded, unthinkingly moving his tongue across his now puffy lips, licking up Sander’s taste.

“Robbe…” Sander groaned, kissing him again, making the blood in Robbe’s body run southward at the speed of light. “Stop making me want you,” the older boy mumbled. “And stop making me so late.”

Innocently, Robbe held up his hands, not touching him anywhere except for where Sander held them pressed together.

“I’m not doing anything,” he said, voice muffled against Sander’s moving lips. “You were the one asking me to fuck, and then you fucked me _again_ , and now you can’t stop kissing me.”

With a laugh, Sander moved his lips from Robbe’s mouth to his cheek, giving him a final kiss. “Don’t act all blameless. I didn’t hear you complain while we were doing it. Quite the opposite actually,” he said smugly.

Robbe rolled his eyes.

Sander then took his hand, lacing their fingers together, sincerity oozing out of his eyes. “Thank you,” he repeated.

This time, Robbe could tell it was for more than just fixing his hair. It was simple and quiet but enough to make his insides even more gooey than they already were. He squeezed Sander’s hand.

“Do you wanna do something tomorrow?” Sander asked, his voice soft.

Robbe gave him a look. “If you say the word ‘wall’ again–”

Sander laughed quietly and shook his head. “No, no. I just miss hanging out with you. I feel like we haven’t done that for a while.”

“We’re literally together right now,” Robbe teased.

“Wow, nothing gets past you, does it?” Sander said, and Robbe gently punched his shoulder. “I mean _just_ hanging out, no fucking.”

Robbe bit his lip, not doing a very good job at repressing a smirk. “You sure you can contain yourself? With how “fucking hot” I am and all? You might see a wall–”

Sander poked Robbe in the ribs, and Robbe yelped in surprise, bursting into laughter.

“Idiot,” the older boy muttered, looking almost annoyed, but Robbe saw the little twitches at the corners of his mouth. He cupped Sander’s cheeks.

“Of course I wanna hang out,” he chuckled softly.

Sander’s eyes sparkled beautifully. “Yeah?”

And Robbe couldn’t help but lean in and kiss him once again, his lips stretching in a smile at how cute Sander was when his face lit up like that.

The smile was soon wiped off as Sander looped his arms around his waist once more. “I’ll text you,” he said in between kisses, and Robbe hummed in response, letting out small unthinking sounds. Sander teasingly dragged his hips against Robbe’s, and then he let go, causing a startled gasp to emit from Robbe’s throat at the sudden loss of contact.

Sander stopped in the doorway, smirking. “Think about me when you take care of that.” He nodded his head in the direction of Robbe’s half-hard dick. “And then take a shower and change your bedsheets, you beautiful boy.”

Robbe breathed out an incredulous giggle and threw a pillow at him. Sander just grinned, before he at last disappeared down the hallway. “See you tomorrow, Robin,” he called out cheerfully.

“Bye,” Robbe laughed, his face feeling as if it might split from how wide he was smiling.

He looked around. The sheets were rumpled from having been draped and twisted around them; a disordered pattern of stains, some dry, some still damp and sticky, adorned the fabric; pillows were scattered around, the pillowcases half off several of them; his clothes strewn haphazardly all over the floor. And it filled Robbe with an odd sense of satisfaction that he was the co-creator of this mess, which quickly grew into an all-encompassing feeling of pride at the fact that sweet, lovely, drop-dead gorgeous Sander was the other.

*

**October 16 th, 21.21**

Robbe: _hey_

Robbe: _what’re you doing?_

It took less than a minute for Sander to reply.

Sander: _I’m just out with some friends_

Sander: _why?_

Robbe: _it’s just_

Robbe: _if you wanna celebrate your project going well (which I think I played a crucial part in btw) then I’m home_

Robbe: _and my mama is out_

Robbe: _and there’s a wall in my room that I seem to remember you wanted to fuck me against_

Robbe: _I’d really like it if you did that_

Sander: _jesus fuck Robbe_

Sander: _I didn’t think you wanted that_

Robbe: _I always wanted that Sander_

Sander: _fuckfuckfuck_

Sander: _shit okay_

Sander: _do you need me to bring anything?_

Robbe smirked.

Robbe: _just yourself_

Robbe: _and an erection preferably x_

Sander: _haha ;)_

Sander: _that shouldn’t be a problem x_

Sander: _I’ll be there in 15 minutes_

-

“Holy _fucking_ …” Sander exhaled, his eyes rolling back at the sight of Robbe on his knees, brown doe-eyes gazing up at him through dark eyelashes as he took his dick in his mouth, tongue so warm that Sander’s legs nearly gave out. His hand adeptly stroked and twisted just right, the other gripped Sander’s hip, steadying him. Sander bit his lip and repeatedly ran his fingers through Robbe’s curls, brushing them away from his forehead. Then he cupped the younger boy’s jaw, his thumb skimming his high, pretty cheekbone and the hollow of his cheek as he sucked. He could watch beautiful, gentle Robbe between his legs till the end of time, devouring him like this.

Sander placed a hand on the wall beside him, feeling his knees weaken. “Fuck, you look so fucking hot, Robbe,” he breathed out shakily. Robbe hummed around him, sending vibrations into the already throbbing pit of his stomach. Sander traced the corner of Robbe’s soft, stretched lips with his thumb. His wet tongue swirled around the sensitive head, lapping at the slit. _That fucking mouth_ , Sander thought. _So sweet and filthy_.

Robbe looked so into it that Sander groaned, his heart swelling at how confident he was, his skilful mouth and fingers so effortlessly driving him to the edge.

“RobbeRobbeRobbe,” Sander said with an amazed little breathy laugh. “I love this, but I’m not gonna last if you keep going.”

He grabbed the sides of Robbe’s face, and Robbe pulled off with a pop. A thin string of saliva connected the younger boy’s glossy mouth to Sander’s dick. Robbe wiped it away with the back of his hand and smirked up at Sander, stroking him a couple more times. His lips were so shiny, and Sander drew him to him. He was simply obligated to kiss him senseless, _his holy being, his angel with a mouth of sin and fingers of lightning and flame_.

He wedged a knee in between Robbe’s legs, spreading them a bit, and Robbe automatically sought friction against his upper thigh, hips slowly rolling as if on their own accord. Sander bit down on Robbe’s bottom lip and slid a hand down his back, down, _down_. Brushing the younger boy’s entrance, warm and soft like velvet, he looked at Robbe, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

“Have you…” he began, and Robbe nodded, his cheeks warming. The corners of Sander’s mouth tugged up in a smirk.

“Fuck, Robbe,” he breathed. “Then I guess there’s no need for this.” He licked two of his fingers and pushed them inside of him, knowing what Robbe could take. Robbe’s knees almost buckled. He clung to Sander’s biceps, nails leaving marks on his skin, forehead dropping to his shoulder.

“Or maybe there’s always a need for this, hm?” Sander teased, and Robbe lifted his head, his mind hazy. To shut him up, Robbe began placing wet, open-mouthed kisses along his collarbones and the curve where his shoulder met his neck, his teeth bruising his golden skin, tongue licking up the light sheen of sweat coating him.

The older boy sighed appreciatively.

“Sander,” Robbe said. “Fuck me.”

And he didn’t have to say that twice. Sander pulled out his fingers, and Robbe’s breath hitched at the sudden cold, empty sensation. Reaching for the lube and coating himself, Sander watched how Robbe’s heavy-lidded gaze followed his every move as if bewitched, so obviously wanting it. Sander couldn’t help leaning in, catching his lips, smiling against him. He lightly squeezed the back of Robbe’s thighs, and Robbe effortlessly jumped up and wrapped his legs around him. He looped his arms tightly around Sander’s neck, bracing himself. Sander circled his arms around his thighs and pinned him against the wall, the surface ice cold against Robbe’s scorching back. Reaching a hand under Robbe’s legs, Sander positioned his dick, slick from beads of precum and Robbe’s warm mouth, slowly and teasingly dragging it against the younger boy, back and forth, back and forth, driving him crazy.

“Sander, I fucking _hate_ you,” Robbe mumbled impatiently, lips brushing his.

“Mmhmm,” Sander hummed as if humouring a child.

Robbe tugged on his hair. “Just get your dick in me, fuck.”

And Sander felt a tingle in his chest at the way Robbe frowned. How he could look so cute in a situation like _this_ , saying things like _that_ was beyond him. Sander breathed out a small laugh, finally entering him, licking into his mouth as he did so. He let Robbe hug his face firmly into his neck, let the younger boy lose himself as he thrusted into him, let him take and take and take _everything_ from him, his body, his mind, his whole heart. He had Sander wrapped around his finger, and Sander didn’t know how it was possible for Robbe to take something that already belonged to him, but he kept doing so every single time.

“I don’t hate you, Sander,” came in a soft whisper from Robbe’s lips into the shell of Sander’s ear, always so, so sweet, and if Sander wasn’t his before, he was now, completely and irrevocably. His fingers firmly dug into the soft skin of the younger boy’s thighs, and the arrow with Robbe’s name on it wedged itself even deeper into his heart.

“I know you don’t,” he whispered back, smiling into the bare skin of Robbe’s neck, placing kisses all the way up to his ear.

But then a need washed over him, a need to take Robbe right to the edge, to watch him break apart in his arms, to hear those pretty sounds he made when in deep pleasure. Because he was greedy like that. Sander raised his head from the younger boy’s neck.

“Robbe, look at me.”

He watched Robbe struggling to lift his eyelids, his pupils so blown that his eyes appeared black, like two solar eclipses at their peak, and something broke apart in Sander too. He automatically picked up his pace, drawing moans out of Robbe’s throat, both of their foreheads frowning in pleasure.

“Tell me what you fantasize about when you’re alone,” Sander said, his voice rough and raspy, kissing him sloppily, and Robbe panted his name into his hot mouth.

“Tell me.” Sander said a little firmer.

“Y-you.” Robbe sounded broken, and Sander dragged his lips along his jaw, overwhelmed with incredible pride by the knowledge that _he_ was the cause, that he had that effect on this angelic boy.

“Yeah? Do you touch yourself while you’re thinking about me?” Sander asked softly, knowing how the tone always pulled those whimpers out of Robbe that he loved so much.

Robbe nodded, not trusting his own voice.

Sander nuzzled his nose against his warm cheek. “Is that what you did earlier? When you asked me to come and fuck you? You fantasized about my dick being inside you like this?”

Again, the younger boy nodded, humming and moaning beautifully.

“Am I the only one?” Sander breathed, voice almost gone. _For you_? he wanted to add.

Robbe turned his face and caught Sander’s lips, their mouths slack, breaths mingling. “You’re the only one,” he whispered. _For me._

The sound that emitted from deep in Sander’s throat at the obscene image of Robbe on his bed, his fingers disappearing between his thighs, slender wrists at work, his mind full of him, _only him_ , bordered on an actual growl. He sucked on Robbe’s earlobe, taking his earring between his teeth, so fucking gone for him.

Robbe couldn’t help but tighten his grip around Sander’s neck, wanting him as close as possible, their sweaty chests rubbing, his dick leaking on Sander’s stomach. Sander buried his face in the curve of his neck again, leaving soothing, gentle kisses against his pulse point.

“You’re so good, Robbe,” he said, hitting the most delicate spot inside him. “So good for me.”

Robbe’s fingers flew into Sander’s dark hair, tugging at the locks that clung to his nape, damp with sweat, nails scraping his scalp every time the older boy thrusted into him, making Sander moan. His glistening lips left wet traces wherever they graced Robbe, and Robbe closed his eyes, feeling himself everywhere around Sander and Sander everywhere around him.

And then he heard it mumbled into his neck, Sander’s breathy voice against his skin. “I love you, Robbe.”

He wasn’t sure if Sander meant it sincerely, if he was just caught up in the moment, unaware of what he was saying, but Robbe took it anyway. Took everything. Caressing the back of Sander’s neck, he brought him impossibly closer, clinging to him, his heart bursting.

“I love you, too,” he whispered, unsure if it was even audible to anyone but himself but meaning it with every fibre of his being.

From the way Sander tightened his arms around him and flexed his hips, making Robbe moan his name into his ear, Robbe knew he had heard it. He took Sander’s face in both hands and desperately found his lips, kissing him fiercely, dragging his tongue over his. His shoulder blades were getting sore from repeatedly rubbing up against the wall, the hard surface rough on his spine.

“Sander,” he breathed, his words almost non-existent. “Bed.”

“You wanna get on the bed?” Sander asked, and Robbe nodded the best he could, his orgasm close.

With an arm circled around his thigh, the other around his back, Sander pulled Robbe away from the wall and walked them the few steps to the bed. He lay him down onto the bedsheets, never slipping out of him, the younger boy’s legs around him the entire time. He rested his forearms on each side of Robbe’s head, hovering close above him. He brushed some damp strands away from his forehead, watching enthralled how they fanned around him like a halo on the white pillow. His cheekbones were flushed, painted in a lovely deep pink.

Robbe tilted his chin. “Kiss me,” he whispered breathlessly.

Sander slotted their lips together, wanting to live in this moment forever, buried deep inside his favourite person, licking up his sweet, sweet taste. He fumbled for Robbe’s hand, tightly intertwining their fingers above the younger boy’s head, the other curled in his hair. The deep, pleasant ache low in his stomach was quickly creeping in on him.

“Robbe, I’m–” he whispered, his breathing heavy, almost frantic. “I’m very–”

With his free hand, Robbe cradled Sander’s cheek lovingly, whispering back to him ever so softly, encouraging, “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”

And Sander felt the back of his eyes prickle at how gentle Robbe was with him, how he looked at him like there was no one else that mattered. He pulled his orgasm out him so effortlessly like that, and Sander rested his forehead against Robbe’s, closing his eyes, his lash lines wet. His hands were trembling, his muscles contracting, his voice hoarse. Robbe’s fluttering eyelashes brushed Sander’s as his own climax followed, coming completely untouched, pushed over the edge by the sight of Sander on top of him in his most raw and vulnerable human state.

Their hearts were on the verge of leaping out of their chests.

Bodies exhausted and full of stars.

-

Lying on their stomachs side by side, tousled and blissed-out, the duvet pooling around their waists, Robbe lazily ran his hand up and down Sander’s back. He felt every little knob of his spine and the way his ribcage slowly expanded with each inhale, his skin so perfect and smooth under his palm. His nails scraped him lightly and an appreciative sigh emitted from Sander’s throat. Robbe gazed at his hand’s movements, before looking at Sander who lay with his head on his hands, watching him with a small smile on his lips.

Outside, the October rain hit the windowpane in a lulling rhythm, the small, crystal droplets lazily rolling down the glass, the real autumn days on their way.

“You’re lovely, Robbe” Sander said quietly, his voice adapted to the still tranquillity of the night. “So lovely.”

Robbe moved his hand to Sander’s bicep, caressing it with the back of his forefinger.

Sander’s eyes didn’t waver. “You know I’m not just sleeping with you to get off or “relieve stress–,” he lifted his head from his hands to do air quotes before laying back down, “–or whatever, right? I really like making you feel good, seeing you enjoy yourself.” Then he added in almost a whisper, as if to himself, “You could ask anything of me, and I’d give it to you.”

Robbe’s lips quirked upwards in a sleepy smile, mirroring Sander’s gentle tone, speaking into the tiny space between them. “Why are you saying this?”

He saw Sander’s shoulder blades move as he shrugged a bit. “Because it’s true, and I want you to know."

Robbe glanced at his golden arms, his chin, his nose, cheekbones, before meeting his green, gold-specked eyes.

“You said you loved me,” he whispered and studied Sander’s face, gauging his reaction, trying to detect any trace of regret in his eyes. But they were as soft and shiny as ever, just as Robbe knew them best.

“And you said it back,” Sander smiled.

Robbe nodded.

They lay quiet for a moment, comfortably gazing at each other.

“So, do you?” Robbe asked gently. “Love me?”

Sander inched closer, nuzzling his nose against Robbe’s. Then he pressed their lips together, a little chapped and sore and so perfect. It was really all the answer the younger boy needed.

“I do. I love you, Robbe,” Sander confirmed when he pulled back. “Did you mean it when you said it?”

Robbe nodded again, whispering shyly, “Yes, I did. I do.”

And he watched how the words lit up Sander’s face, acting like the first warm sunrays of spring, his cheeks fucking glowing. He was so, so beautiful and sweet as he shifted onto his side, combing his fingers through Robbe’s hair, saying, “I want you, Robbe.“

Robbe mirrored his position and moved closer, their foreheads touching, legs tangling. “You have me,” he breathed.

“No, I mean,” Sander said. “Not just the sex. I want _all_ of you. I want to hold your hand and kiss you when we’re around our friends and family. I want to go on coffee dates, and to put my head on your chest at night while you play with my hair. I want to just _sleep_ next to you, because I never sleep better than when you’re there with me. I want to make you laugh, and then I want to make you blush in that adorable, shy way of yours where the corners of your mouth tug upwards in a small smile and you fiddle with your fingers, unable to look at me when I tell you that you’re beautiful when you laugh.”

And Robbe felt himself involuntarily do all of those exact things.

“Just like you are right now,” Sander added softly.

Robbe looked at him, studying every little detail of him; his green, shimmering eyes that crinkled, the pretty birthmarks on his cheek and above his upper lip, his dark eyebrows.

“And I’m saying that you have me, Sander. All of me.” He caressed Sander’s cheekbone. “I think you’ve had me since we started this thing and probably even before that as well.”

Sander grabbed Robbe’s hand and played with his fore- and middle finger. “Does that mean that you’re in love with me?” he asked, his mind, treacherous as it was, not letting him fully believe it.

Smiling, Robbe brushed a fingertip down the bridge of his nose. “It means that I’m pretty fucking in love with you, yeah.”

Sander bit his lip, a cute, sheepish grin gracing his face. And it really dawned on Robbe then how young and wonderful he was.

“I’m glad, because I’m pretty fucking in love with you, too,” Sander said.

And they grinned at each other like giddy schoolboys, and Robbe pressed kisses all the way from the curve of Sander’s shoulder, his collarbones, to his chin, before reaching his mouth; rosy lips declaring their love and swallowing up soft sighs.

*

**December 20 th, 23.56**

And there they were again, a few months later, just before Christmas, leaning against a wall at the back of a party, entirely in their own little bubble. “Dancing Queen” blasted through the speakers, and Robbe would have scoffed at the music choice if it wasn’t for the fact that Sander had his arms thrown around his neck and was quietly singing, “Young and sweet, only seventeen,” against his lips. The older boy had his fingers loosely wrapped around a near-empty beer bottle, his third of the night, and he was tipsy to say the least, the alcohol hitting him hard as he hadn’t had any in his system for months. And with the alcohol came the very blatant affection. Sander pressed their bodies together and looked at him with those loving eyes that Robbe trusted with his life; the ones that were soft in the bathroom mirror when they were brushing their teeth at night, toothpaste in the corners of his mouth, and dark when he was undressing him, dragging over the younger boy’s hard ribcage and soft thighs.

Robbe had his hands on Sander’s hips, fingertips sneaking under the hem of his sweatshirt.

“I love you,” Sander mumbled between endless kisses, heavy-lidded and very adorable, “I love you. You wanna be mine forever?”

Robbe giggled. “If you stop singing ABBA songs into my mouth.” _Please never stop singing ABBA songs into my mouth._

“I will never stop singing ABBA songs into your mouth,” Sander said, voice muffled.

“Oh god,” Robbe teased. _Thank god_ , he thought relieved.

When Sander began pressing his lips along Robbe’s jaw, crooning, “You’re a teaser, you turn ‘em on,” Robbe nicked the beer out of his hand and finished it in a few gulps, not missing how Sander’s gaze was glued to his lips while they were wrapped around the bottle.

“Yeah, I think that’s enough alcohol for you,” Robbe said.

Sander shot him a cute, unimpressed look, his hands falling from around his neck to his waist. “Robin, I’m fine.”

“Mhm, and I’m sure you’re also gonna be just fine tomorrow morning,” Robbe smiled knowingly, running a hand through his hair. He looked at Sander for a moment, his smile growing into a smirk as the older boy kept unabashedly staring at his lips. He let the tip of his tongue skim over them just to be a tease, and said, “What’re you thinking about, mister?”

And Robbe really shouldn’t ask in public, should know better by now when Sander was looking at him like _that_. The older boy gently kissed Robbe’s forehead, and then, with a lopsided grin, bluntly said, “I’m thinking about going home and fucking you.”

“ _Sander.”_ Robbe clasped a hand over his mouth, glancing around them, making sure nobody heard, his cheeks heating.

As he looked back into Sander’s warm, playful eyes all he saw was _light_ , and he loved him so, so much. He loved him exactly because he was so blunt and loud and unashamed, and because he was gentle-hearted and safe and always there, making life flow easier. There was no one else Robbe would rather be grumpy with at six in the morning or see waiting for him outside of school with a big, beautiful smile on his face at the end of a long day.

Sander pulled Robbe’s hand away from his mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, I meant making slow and tender love to my sweet, sweet boyfriend.”

Robbe rolled his eyes, sighing and slumping his forehead against Sander’s shoulder, his arms wrapping him in a hug, his heart so happy.

“You’re impossible,” he laughed, making Sander laugh with him, and that always felt like a small victory, not because it was rare, quite the opposite, but because Robbe was sure the lovely sound added a few hours to his life each time. It was the best feeling in the world.

He placed a few kisses on Sander’s throat and lifted his head, their noses brushing. “And so lovely,” he added, his eyes droopy. “I love you.”

Sander pressed his lips against his temple and whispered a soft, “I love you too.”

Robbe knew that his greatest achievement was that somehow, he had managed to exist on this earth at the same time and in the same space as his starry-eyed, whimsical, devastatingly exquisite Sander.

And at the same time, Sander was thinking that his greatest achievement was that somehow, he had managed to exist on this earth at the same time and in the same space as his rosy-cheeked, serene, absolutely breathtaking Robbe.

***

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! <3
> 
> Ps. jsdjdjd someone please explain to me why I could write this but not watch 2 minutes of them having cyber sex


End file.
